


C. vernus

by WevyrDove



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Prompt Fill, Total Fluff, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 17:09:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6478798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WevyrDove/pseuds/WevyrDove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean visits the gardens with Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	C. vernus

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for an anon prompt on tumblr: Destiel going on a date to some beautiful gardens in spring.  
> Title comes from the scientific name for early spring crocuses: _Crocus vernus._

Dean had snorted when Castiel had suggested they go for a walk at the City Gardens. The hurt look that Castiel gave him shut him up quick though, and he relented. Now that they were here and the sun was shining, the air unseasonably warm so that Dean was able to leave his jacket in the car (Castiel kept his trenchcoat on), Dean grudgingly admitted that it wasn’t the worst idea the angel ever had. 

Castiel walked around dreamily, letting his fingers graze over the petals. It was still early in the season, but tulips and daffodils were out, carefully arranged in circular beds. Azalea bushes and forsythia bloomed along the paths, and the buds on the trees were opening. Dean trailed behind Castiel, relaxing as he listened to the birds that chased each other between the branches. He wasn’t paying attention when Castiel stopped short, and bumped against the angel’s back.

“Sorry Cas.” Dean said, stepping back. 

Castiel didn’t turn around. He was focused on the plants in front of him. He crouched down and touched the petals lovingly.

“One of my Father’s favorite creations.” Castiel murmured. 

“Really?” Dean was surprised. The flowers that Castiel was admiring were ordinary crocuses, not even part of the maintained portions of the garden. He had never really noticed them. 

“Yes. They are always the first to show when the snows start receding.” Castiel turned to look at Dean, his eyes wide and serious. “They are a symbol of awakening. A symbol of hope.” 

Castiel motioned Dean to come closer. Dean found himself crouching beside Castiel. He was surprised when Castiel picked a flower and held it up to his nose. Dean automatically inhaled. It was a sweet scent, not particularly strong, but pleasant.

“I never knew they smelled.” Dean admitted. 

“It’s stronger on warm, sunny days.” Castiel explained. 

Castiel stood up again, and Dean stood up as well, and found that he was holding the bloom in his hand. He held it awkwardly, not knowing what to do with it. He didn’t want to just drop it or crush it in his pocket. Castiel was walking again, and Dean sped up to match his step. The silence between them was comfortable. Dean remembered when he had first met Castiel, how the angel’s direct gaze and economy of words had unnerved him. Now he appreciated Castiel’s terse manner.

By the time they were back at the car, Dean was actually sweating slightly under his flannel. Castiel looked cool and collected as usual, but Dean went ahead and stripped to his T-shirt, placing the crocus gently on the top of the hood before shrugging his flannel off. Castiel noticed the flower. He picked up the now wilted bloom and looked quizzically at Dean.

Dean blushed and shrugged. He wasn’t sure why he had held on to it. It looked sad and limp and shriveled. Castiel had snipped the bloom at the end, so there wasn’t much of a stem.

“I never understood mankind’s obsession with the reproductive organs of plants.” Castiel commented, and Dean blushed again. 

Dean didn’t know what to say. Even if Castiel hadn’t given the bloom to him as a token of affection, he hadn’t felt right throwing it away. It was a nice memento of the outing. He wouldn’t say it was a date, but the spring air and the beauty of the garden brought those thoughts to mind. Before Dean could come up with an excuse, Castiel offered the bloom back to him and Dean accepted it.

“First time anyone’s got me flowers.” He joked, covering for himself.

“A flower.” Castiel corrected. 

Dean laughed and clapped a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Come on, Cas. Let’s go home.” 

When they got in the Impala, Dean found an old receipt between the seats and folded the crocus in the paper. They drove back to the bunker in companionable silence. 

When he was back in his room, Dean grabbed one of the heavy tomes on his desk. It was a book on demon lore that Sam insisted was required reading. Dean cracked it open for the first time and slid the receipt with Castiel’s flower between the pages. 

He placed the book back on his desk, and smiled to himself.

Hope and awakening.


End file.
